


Who're You Calling Soft?

by matchst_ck



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Anal Sex, Canon Compliant, Canon Elements, Canon-Typical Violence, Cute, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Domestic Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Domestic Mickey Milkovich, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mickey and Ian should always be happy beans, Non-Explicit Sex, Non-Graphic Violence, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-10
Updated: 2016-11-10
Packaged: 2018-08-30 03:08:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8516170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/matchst_ck/pseuds/matchst_ck
Summary: "Mickey is soft.He’s not going to tell his boyfriend that. Not yet at least, not until he works out how and when to phrase it so he won’t get a black eye or a busted nose or silent treatment for a week. But he notices now, just how soft Mickey is."---In which Ian knows Mickey is soft. But not soft soft.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm attempting to write a longer fic/chaptered fic (as of yet unsure which it will turn out to be, if I ever get properly going with it or anywhere near finished) and it's causing me a lot of head to desk moments so I needed to step away from it for a while. And then this came to me. I'm sorry? *head desk*

It surprises Ian that it takes him so long to notice but when he does, he realises that it’s really not that surprising at all. 

Mickey is _soft_.

He’s not going to tell his boyfriend that. Not yet at least, not until he works out how and when to phrase it so he won’t get a black eye or a busted nose or silent treatment for a week. But he notices now, just how soft Mickey is. 

Not physically – well, in certain places for sure, like that soft part he likes to nuzzle just above his hip and below the bottom of his ribcage, but that’s not what he means. And definitely not when it comes down to a fight, soft is the last thing anyone would call Mickey. 

Ian can’t explain it, but he can see it.

***

Mickey’s brought Yevgeny over to the Gallagher house for a playdate with Liam. Brought is a strong word, when really Ian’s pretty sure Svetlana’s strong armed him into helping Yevgeny make friends.

_“Yevgeny need friends. Carrot boy has tiny sibling. You take Yevgeny and make friends, play games or I find where you hid screwdriver.”_

Liam’s a little older than Yev but he’s a good kid, a quiet kid who is more than happy to make friends with a babbling toddler who just wants to throw the stickle bricks rather than build them. Ian remembers that particular set of stickle bricks from when he was a kid and Fiona had lifted it from a local toy store. He’s in the kitchen making coffee for the adults and juice for the kids when he hears the commotion. He looks over to find Yev angrily reaching out for a piece of stickle brick Liam has in his hand. He’s not worried about it but he’s interested to see what Mickey will do. 

Yevgeny makes a high pitched angry noise and Liam’s brow furrows as the kid crawls closer and that’s when Mickey sticks a hand between the two of them from his place on the couch, fingers clicking in rapid succession a couple of times startling both boys to attention. 

“Hey.” His hand waves between them as he looks between his son and his boyfriends little brother. “No fighting OK? This is supposed to be a happy fucking playdate where you two become fast friends or some shit---” Ian stifles a laugh at the amount of cussing in front of two under-five’s “---so play nice alright?”

He watches as Mickey slides off the couch then, taking a piece of stickle brick from Yev’s hoard and one from Liam’s hoard and sticking them together before he looks at both of them, trying to make a point. He drops the piece, hands coming up to stroke over both Yev’s blonde hair and Liam’s dark curls as he smiles at the boys.

Ian’s heart feels full.

***

It’s the shouting that wakes him up. He can’t quite make out the words but he’s pretty sure he heard the front door slam and now there’s shouting coming from somewhere in the Milkovich house. He squints an eye open to find that there’s daylight streaming through the window. He knows Mickey’s not in bed anymore, the warm body normally pressed back against him is gone and he can make out Mickey’s shouts now that’s he’s woken up some more.

“He’s a fucking liability Mandy, fucking look at you!”

“What the fucks it gotta do with you Mickey? He’s not normally like this!”

Kenyatta. They’re obviously arguing about Kenyatta. Ian huffs angrily, shaking his head as he sits up and slides his legs out of bed. He pulls on the first pair of boxers he can find, fairly certain they’re not his but it’s fine. Shared custody of clothes has become part and parcel of his relationship, he’s fairly certain he hasn’t worn his beige hoodie in over a year but Mickey has it on almost constantly. It makes him smile every time. 

“He beats the living fuck out of you all the time Mandy! You just gonna let him get away with this? You’re worth more than this!”

He hears Mickey and he agrees with Mickey. Mandy’s let too many men walk all over her, she cares so fast and so hard and can’t see the worst in people sometimes. 

“Don’t tell me what I’m worth! Why do you care?”

And the answer doesn’t surprise Ian, he’s always known it, but it does surprise him that Mickey says it out loud.

“Because I love you, you dumb bitch!”

Ian hears silence, can imagine Mandy’s face. Can imagine Mickey’s face at having been so openly brotherly, having stated his affections for his baby sister so clearly. That’s not the Milkovich way, but things are changing.

He stands, creeping out of the room and turns left finding the bathroom occupied but the door ajar. The siblings aren’t speaking now but Mandy’s eyes are wide as the two stare at each other. He clenches his teeth at the black eye she’s sporting, the bruises and dried blood coating her nose and lips. It’s another few heartbeats before Mickey regains movement, pushes her to sit on the closed toilet seat. He starts to roughly rifle through the bathroom cabinet, pulling first aid equipment out that’s only there because Mandy filled it in the first place. 

Ian watches as Mickey starts to awkwardly but gently dab at Mandy’s face. There’s a warmth in his belly working its way up to his chest and lodging itself over his heart. He leans backwards, planning a quiet retreat but forgetting about squeaky floorboards. He stills.

Mickey’s hand stops moving, just for a beat before he continues cleaning his sister up. “Gallagher.” It comes out croaky, quiet. A greeting, an acknowledgement that Ian is there, that Mickey’s OK with him seeing him care.

Ian breathes easily. “I’ll just put some coffee on.” He heads to the kitchen.

*

Later, he enthusiastically helps Mickey carry Mandy’s things back into the house, back into her room where she belongs.

***

“What is that?” Mickey points with a gloved finger as Ian steps out into the cold with him.

“What’s, what?” Ian squints, looking off the porch at all the crap in the yard. “That’s junk Mickey. You need me to get you some glasses?” He laughs.

“Yeah, yeah laugh it up fuckhead. You’re the one that needs glasses. What is _that?_ ” Mickey grabs him by the back of the neck, albeit gently, and pushes his squinting face further forward, pointing with his other hand.

Ian can see it now, a black and white scruffy mass but he has no idea what it is. He leans back, breathing out cold, frosty air as he watches Mickey light a cigarette. He smiles. Mickey’s taken to smoking outside when Yev’s awake and wandering the house. He’s still no good at admitting he cares out loud but he’s good at showing it.

“No idea Mick.” Ian plucks the cigarette out of his fingerless gloved grip and takes a drag. “Skunk maybe?”

“Fucking skunk.” Mickey scoffs taking the smoke back. He tilts his head. “Racoon?”

“Tapir?” Ian stifles his own laugh as he watches Mickey’s head swing around.

“The fucks a tapir?!”

“It’s a big black and white thing!” Ian snorts.

“Might as well call it a panda and be done with it!” Mickey’s voice is gruff, but his face is alight with happiness at the banter.

“Nah Mick, now you’re just being silly.” Ian can’t help but laugh, even when he has to steady himself when Mickey tries to shove him off the porch.

“You’re a fucking di---” Mickey’s head whips around quick enough to give him whiplash. “Oh my god it moved!” He practically trips down the stairs to get to the creature now moving stealthily through the junk yard. 

Ian watches in amusement as his boyfriend bends over, carefully pulling items out of the way to get to the---

“It’s a cat!” Mickey announces suddenly, standing upright but staring down at the creature. 

Ian smiles, shaking his head. He walks back into the house. “A tapir would’ve been cooler.”

*

It takes Ian a few days to notice, admittedly. 

He’s preparing dinner a few nights later when the back door closes behind Mickey. His boyfriend enters the kitchen and Ian realises he can’t smell lingering cigarette smoke and the trash definitely hasn’t been taken out when he goes to drop the empty pasta sauce jar in. He spots the empty tin in there, smiling. He gives the food a stir before turning around. 

“Have you named it?” Ian crosses his arms, leaning back against the counter.

“Named what?” Mickey breathes over his cold fingers, rubbing his hands together.

“The cat, Mick.” Ian grins as Mickey’s blue eyes widen.

Mickey splutters and his head flicks from side to side but Ian just points at the trash bag. “Unless you’ve decided to start feeding Yev---” He squints. “Whiskas Fish Selection, with added zinc to ensure a healthy coat, then you’ve started feeding that cat Mick.”

He watches Mickey gape for a second before a tattooed hand comes up to run through his hair. “Alright, alright. So I’ve been feeding the cat.” Mickey bites his lip, looking at the backdoor, words tumbling out in an uncharacteristic rush. “It was still there when I went out later and it wouldn’t stop looking at me! So I picked up some food on the way home and kinda…threw some junk together to make it somewhere to sleep.” He trailed off.

Ian was never sure if his heart would ever come to terms with just _how much love_ he could feel for this man at any given time.

“S’cold out Mick.”

“Yeah.” Mickey looked at him then, through his lashes.

“Why don’t you bring the cat in, if it’ll let you. Pretty sure Yev will love having it around.” Ian smiled as he watched Mickey’s cheeks flush. He was very sure Yev would love the cat but all pretence aside, this was all for Mickey.

“Kay.”

Ian watched as his boyfriend attempted to leisurely race outside. To his credit, he was back inside only a few minutes later, a little breathless but with a slightly worse for wear cat wrapped in an old blanket tucked under his arm.

“Ian, this is Boris. Boris, Ian.” Mickey grinned.

The cat mewled. 

***

They’re in bed and it’s far too early but they’re taking advantage of an empty house while they can. Sunlight is streaming in the windows as Mickey throws a leg over Ian’s body. He’s been stroked and stretched and touched and rubbed to almost breaking point as he leans down to lick his way back into Ian’s mouth, hand working backwards to grab Ian’s straining cock.

He sinks slowly, smoothly, moans mingling as he seats himself fully. He sits back up as he starts to rock his hips gently, feeling that wonderful fullness.

“Fuck, Ian.” He breathes, as his callused hands start to stroke over Ian’s torso. He brushes over pebbled nipples, gentle, light tickling touches that are going straight to Ian’s groin. 

Ian’s hands slide up Mickey’s lush thighs, to his hips as he begins to quicken the pace slightly. Only slightly, they don’t always have the time to make love slowly but when they do they like to savour it. His fingers reach around, grabbing Mickey’s ass cheeks as he licks his lips.

“You’re so fucking beautiful Mick. Like this. Like always.” Ian breathes as Mickey keens, starting to lift and lower in tandem to Ian’s thrusts.

“You---Ian.” Mickey moans, eyebrows scrunching in pleasure. His hands finds Ian’s, fingers lacing as he rides him. “Fucking love this. Love you.”

It’s slow and satisfying and they take all the time they can before Mickey finds his joined hand is brought to his cock, pulling once, twice before he comes all over his lover. He maintains pace as much as he can before he feels Ian thicken, hears that long drawn out moan and feels him come inside, warm and wet.

He collapses eventually, chest drawing in heaving lungful’s of air. He feels Ian cuddle into his side, arm dropping over his waist. They sit, enjoying the quiet before he feels Ian speak against his side.

“Did I ever tell you how soft you are Mick?” Ian whispers.

Mickey’s too sated to even try to take offence. “Fuck’re you calling soft?” He grumbles amiably.

“You.” Ian grins, arm tightening around Mickey’s middle. “You think you’re a tough man, but I know you Mickey Milkovich. You’ve got a heart of gold, you big softie.” Ian smiles, pressing his face into one of those soft spots around Mickey’s stomach. He leaves wet kisses, mouths _I love you’s_ all over that pale skin as he feels Mickey’s fingers tug through his hair.

“Sssh” Mickey’s leans down, lips press into the crown of his head. “It’s a secret.”

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr :)](https://matchst-ck.tumblr.com/)


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